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Mountains in the Clouds
by Lynn Roberts
Grice
Those
who live on land so flat
must
count the clouds their mountains.
No
powdered sugar dusted peaks
range
on our horizon, just clouds.
Majestic rising, unscalable by human hands,
perpetually snow-capped.
To
live where veins of white lace
trace
verdant summits.
To
climb and reach toward azure sky
or
sail down snowy rivers.
A
treasure sure, but for now
the
clouds must suffice, and dreams.
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